A Musical Mare
by M1ghtyPen
Summary: Lucky was never a fan of classical music, but maybe he could learn to like it.
1. Chapter 1

_Here's a story that was supposed to be up for Christmas, but I didn't like it and decided not to put it up. Then I figured that I wasn't exactly flooding the internet with stories, so I decided to toss it up anyway. While I usually don't like shipping stories (they seem too formulaic for my taste) I do occasionally read them. There aren't all that many straight ones, and Octavia is best background pony, so…well, there you go. Yes, I read the Allegrezza one with Octavia and Scratch. I liked it okay._

_Disclaimer: I know nothing about music. I'm not a musician, and the closest I've ever come to playing classical music was when I played Beethoven on a kazoo. There might be errors. *sunglasses* Deal with it._

_Can YOU guess what song Lucky is singing with Beltalong? It's one of the only rap songs that I like._

_Look closely and you'll find a reference to my permanently incomplete _Trot Hard _fic. Other than that, just enjoy I guess. Thanks. Oh, and if you notice anything that might be improved, drop me a note and I'll consider it. Input is always nice!_

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><p>Lucky was finishing up his chores while Beltalong, the farm's appointed weather pony, flew around him in circles. The brown pegasus had the attention span of a foal half his age, but he was a hard worker and his chores were usually done on time. He wasn't lazy –something the Apple family would never tolerate –but he got distracted very easily. Today he'd cleared most of the clouds in the sky, but a few still lingered around the edges of the farm. In typical Beltalong style the job was as done as it was going to get.<p>

Lucky hitched himself up to the wagon and began pulling the day's load of apples toward the barn. He smiled as Beltalong circled overhead. The pegasus cleared his throat loudly. "She won't come…just when ya want it!"

"Not gonna happen, Belt!" Lucky laughed. "Just forget it."

Beltalong landed beside him looking terribly disappointed. "Oh come on!" he begged, "Please? _Pretty_ please?"

"I don't even talk like that!" Lucky insisted. "I _never_ talked like that."

"It comes out sometimes when you're angry."

"Really?"

Beltalong giggled and took to the air again. "Just one time," he promised. "I won't ask again for the rest of the day if you make it a good one."

Lucky rolled his eyes. "Fine," he sighed. "But only because you promised to leave me alone after this. Set me up."

Most ponies weren't impressed by Beltalong's beat-boxing, but it always made Lucky smile. "She won't come!" the pegasus began again. "_Just_ when you want it!"

While his friend provided the rhythm Lucky started working on the lyrics. His accent changed dramatically with almost no effort at all. He liked House of Grain, but he knew his skills as a vocalist left a lot to be desired.

The song continued as they neared the barn, Beltalong occasionally breaking into a fit of giggles and spoiling the song's rhythm. Lucky didn't mind; he was forced to endure such treatment almost every day and had gotten used to it.

Most ponies knew that Lucky was a very, very distant relative of the Apple family. Only a few knew that he'd grown up in an entirely different part of Equestria than his apple-farming relations. Lucky Clover had been born in Ire-land, a city known for its unfriendly atmosphere and bad weather. His family had moved to Ponyville when he was very young and had no intentions of ever going back.

When the apples were put away and the day's work finally finished Lucky trotted into the house for dinner. Beltalong waved goodbye and flew off toward home…at first. Lucky saw his flight pattern veer sharply to the side as something caught his attention. "Probably saw something shiny," Lucky said with a grin. "What a spaz."

"Heya Lucky!" Applejack said cheerfully as he wandered inside. The family was already gathered around the table and hungrily awaiting dinner. "We were waitin' on you to show up. Tomorrow Big Macintosh and I are going to Canterlot to talk business. We're takin' Caramel with us too, and if you wanted to tag along it'd be fine."

"But what about the farm?" Lucky asked.

"It'll be fine for a few days. Granny Smith won't let Applebloom and the crusaders burn it down while we're gone." Applebloom glared at her sister, but Applejack ignored her. "It's up to you. Big Macintosh and I can work out the business mumbo-jumbo with Caramel, but you can come along for the fun of it if you want."

* * *

><p>Twenty-four hours after packing his bags and making the trip to Canterlot Lucky was beginning to think that "for the fun of it" was code for "misery loves company". The Apple siblings (and their cousin Caramel) were trying to work out a deal for the farm, but since he didn't own any part of the farm's business he had no say in what they decided to do. That meant that he had nothing to do but twiddle his hooves while they were busy.<p>

He didn't like the big city, and he was already starting to miss the farm. There was very little that captured his interest here and his friends wouldn't be done with their business for hours. Maybe they could all see a movie or visit the palace gardens together later in the day, but for now he would have to entertain himself. He thought about trying to see the Wonderbolts perform but then remembered that their next tour didn't start for another three months.

Lucky spent several hours wandering from building to building. He found museums, an art academy, and more tourist traps than he could count. None of it interested him until an art gallery lured him in with the promise of the world's most detailed sculpture; a bizarre, absurd creature frozen in the midst of a maniacal laugh.

Lucky spent a while trying to figure out what he was looking at, eventually deciding that it was some sort of Frankenpony monster stitched together from a dozen different creatures. He smiled at the absurdity of the thing, wondering what sort of artist would take the time to create it.

The art gallery segued into a concert hall that shared the same building. Lucky saw a poster in the lobby advertising public auditions for the royal orchestra. Visitors were invited to sit in on the auditions at no charge. He could hear a quiet murmur of restrained conversation coming from inside and decided to investigate.

The auditorium wasn't completely full, but there was a sizeable audience waiting for the auditions to start. Lucky found an empty seat near the back and sighed happily as he sat down. He'd been on his hooves all day and was happy to relax for a while.

A unicorn with perfectly manicured hooves stepped onto the stage and the auditorium fell silent. Lucky immediately noticed that his mane was slicked back with so much gel that the scent of it was probably strangling the front row. "Ladies and gentlecolts!" he began. "My name is Eighth Harmonic, and I am pleased to welcome you to the auditions for the royal orchestra.

"The Alicorn Sisters Orchestra is a proud organization that was formed over a thousand years ago for the enjoyment of our esteemed monarchs. To this day, we strive to provide the princesses with the most beautiful music Equestria has ever heard. As a proud patron of the arts, Celestia has requested that the public be allowed to sit in on these auditions. We honor her request, but ask that you remain silent and respectful for the duration of the show. Thank you."

Eighth Harmonic bowed and motioned to somepony offstage. A voice filled the auditorium through the speakers: "Our first musician is Plucky Strings."

Lucky listened happily as beautiful music filled the hall. The pony onstage played very well, and the audience couldn't help but clap after his performance. A look from Eighth Harmonic silenced them as the next pony walked onstage. It was Lyra! Lucky wanted to wave, but realized that he could end up distracting her. He didn't want to ruin her audition, especially if she played as well as Plucky Strings.

After Lyra came a parade of musicians that Lucky didn't recognize. Most of them were ponies, but every now and then a griffon made an appearance. They all fell away into an endless line of names that he wouldn't remember later; first came Bright Harmony, then Strummer, Perfect Note, Talon Gruber (one of the few griffons), Windy Brass, and several others that weren't quite on the same level as their rivals.

Most of the hopefuls were very talented, but Lucky was getting bored all the same. He could only hear the same sample music so many times before it became monotonous. He was glad when Eighth Harmony finally told the audience that the next audition would be the last.

"Octavia Amati." A grey earth pony trotted onto the stage, carrying a cello that looked too big for her. She was wearing a purple bowtie and purple eyeliner to match her cutie mark; some sort of musical symbol that Lucky didn't recognize. She tucked her dark mane behind her ears, closed her eyes, and assumed a relaxed posture behind her instrument.

The fact that her cello was oversized made Lucky feel sorry for her. Half the ponies that had auditioned for the Alicorn Sisters Orchestra clearly didn't have a chance, even with the proper instruments. Some of these ponies here were world-class musicians, and this poor mare was going to audition with an instrument that weighed more than she did.

"You may begin," Eighth Harmonic said in a bored tone. Lucky immediately wanted to smack him for being so inconsiderate. He hadn't talked that way to any of the _other _musicians. Octavia took no notice; she just took a deep breath and began to play the same music as every other cellist that had auditioned.

The difference was that, while the others had been great, she was utterly brilliant. Lucky had heard the same music from at least seven other ponies and one mildly talented griffon, but none of them played with half as much passion as Octavia. Her energy poured into the music, filling the room with an air of delicate magic that could have shattered with a single lackluster note. The auditorium seemed to edge forward slightly as everypony leaned forward in their seats.

Octavia's music slowly began to take a toll on her appearance. Her carefully brushed mane began to drift out from behind her ears and into her face, lending her an air of frantic desperation. She repeatedly tossed her head to get it out of her eyes, never once missing a note. Her bowtie and collar became dark with sweat and her eyeliner left nearly invisible purple lines down her face as it washed away. She never looked up from her cello, fixing it with a stare so intense that she appeared to be begging it to keep playing. Lucky wasn't sure that she could have stopped even if she'd wanted to.

By the end of the song Octavia was a mess, but a beautiful one. The final notes of her music ended and the auditorium as a whole let out the breath it had been holding. Lucky watched, awestruck, as she bowed politely to both the audience and to Eighth Harmonic. The grey mare that had seemed so out of her league now strolled calmly offstage, having produced the most incredible music he could ever imagine hearing.

"Ladies and gentlecolts," Eighth Harmonic said to the stunned audience, "Thank you for attending and for being so considerate during the performances. On behalf of the Alicorn Sisters Orchestra, have a nice day."

Lucky watched numbly as the curtain fell and the other members of the audience got up to leave. "Wow," he said quietly. "Just…_wow_."

* * *

><p>Long after the show was over and the audience had gone home the other musicians began filtering out of the building and hailing taxis. Lucky was waiting on a bench nearby. "Hey!" he said when he saw Octavia lugging her cello down the gallery's steps. "You were amazing in there!"<p>

Octavia smiled politely. "You're very kind. Do I know you?"

"Oh! Uh, no. I just sort of wandered in and saw that they were holding public auditions, so I figured it might be fun to watch. I can carry your cello if you like, or-"

"No, that's quite alright." Octavia hailed a cab and lifted her cello onto her back.

"You'll get the part, right? Shoot, if you don't deserve it then nopony does."

"These things are never certain." Octavia tried to tuck her mane back behind her ears, but her performance had thrown it into a state of temporary chaos and there was simply no fixing it. "Still, I appreciate the compliment. I have to be going now."

Lucky saw that she was walking a little faster than normal and began to feel foolish. "Oh, I'm botherin' you. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a pest."

"It's no imposition." Octavia slid her cello into the taxi's back seat and gave him a strained smile. "Forgive me, I just don't know what you want."

"Uh, nothin' I guess." Lucky glanced back at the concert hall and saw Eighth Harmonic locking the doors behind him as he left. "It just seems like you got a raw deal up there. Wasn't right, him acting like you weren't worth his time. Maybe I felt like somepony should congratulate you."

Octavia stared at him for a moment as though trying to decide whether or not he was pulling her leg. "That's very kind of you," she said. "I'm glad that you enjoyed the show, Mr…?"

"Lucky," he said. "Lucky Clover."

"Octavia, but you knew that already." Octavia climbed into the cab and smiled at him through the window. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Clover. Perhaps I'll see you if they decide to call me back tomorrow." Then, to the earth pony pulling the taxi, "The Horn and Feather, please."

The taxi pulled away and left Lucky standing alone beside the road. He started back toward the hotel with a goofy smile and a light heart. Maybe Canterlot wasn't such a boring place after all.

The next day Lucky found his way to the art gallery and from there to the concert hall. He took a pamphlet from a basket by the door and read over the names, fairly dancing with anticipation until he found Octavia. She was dead last again, but she'd made it through the first round of eliminations.

Lucky was more attentive today, partly because there were fewer performances to sit through. The music was also different, which was refreshing. He wasn't sure that he could have heard the same song thirty more times and remained sane.

Octavia finally took the stage and waited for Eighth Harmonic to give her leave to begin. The unicorn shifted through several lists of names first, making her wait while he read through them. Finally he looked up and gave her a nod.

Lucky had waited all morning to hear her play, and Octavia didn't disappoint him. She thrilled the audience just as much tonight as she had before. Her music filled the auditorium and hypnotized everypony there so thoroughly that the applause afterward was completely uncontrollable.

The only pony present that didn't seem impressed was Eighth Harmonic. He hardly seemed to be paying attention while she played, and dismissed her with a curt nod when she was finished. "What a punk," Lucky grumbled. He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but the pegasus sitting next to him nodded in agreement.

Lucky didn't have to wait outside for very long before musicians began spilling out of the building. Octavia was among them, lugging her cello along with dignity despite her slightly bedraggled appearance. "Oh, Mr. Clover!" she said pleasantly. "Lovely to see you again. Did you enjoy the show?"

"You bet! What was that you were playin'?"

"Buck's Eleventy-First."

Lucky had heard of Buck, but not that particular song. "That's a really weird name."

Octavia laughed musically. "Yes, it is; Buck was completely insane. Some historians think it was either caused by or the cause of his musical genius."

"Doesn't seem like a pony should have to go crazy to get good at somethin'."

"I quite agree."

Lucky walked with her to the curb where she hailed a taxi. "Hey, sorry about yesterday." He cleared his throat and tried to phrase his next words carefully. "I didn't mean to be a nuisance."

"Nonsense. I'm flattered that you stayed to see me personally. Are you engaged for dinner tonight?"

"I…what?"

Octavia paused as she pushed her cello into the taxi. "I'll be dining alone," she said thoughtfully, "It so happens that I do not know many ponies in Canterlot. There is a restaurant in my hotel. If you are not otherwise engaged, say at eight o'clock-"

"That sounds great!" Lucky exclaimed. "You got it –eight o'clock, the Horn and Feather." Octavia said something he couldn't hear to the pony pulling her taxi, then waved to Lucky as she rode away. "I'll be there!" He watched the taxi roll away and sighed. "Aw ponyfeathers. I don't have anything to wear."

* * *

><p>Hours later Lucky was beginning to regret dressing up for his meeting with Octavia. He'd made the mistake of telling Caramel about his plans for the evening, who had then told anypony that would listen. Applejack had taken it upon herself to help him get ready and, while Lucky appreciated that his family was trying to help, she was starting to get on his nerves.<p>

"Feels kinda funny to say this," Applejack said as she adjusted his tie for the eighth time, "But things'd be a lot simpler if Rarity was here. None of us know the first thing about dating 'cept Big Macintosh, and he and Fluttershy never dress up anyway. Rarity's into all this fancy-schmancy stuff; she'd be more help here than all the rest of us combined."

"Thanks and all, but I don't _need_ help." Lucky adjusted his vest and fastened the top button. "This isn't a date. We're just going to have dinner and talk for a while."

Applejack eyed him dubiously. "And that's different from a date how, exactly?"

"Don't use your fancy semantics to muddy the issue! I don' need yer help! This isn't a date!" He noticed some of the old Ire-land upbringing cropping up in his words and sighed. Beltalong had been right, and he _hated_ it when Beltalong was right. "Just stop fussin' over me and calm down!"

Applejack rolled her eyes and backed away. "If it's not a date, then why are you so nervous? Take some of your own advice and relax, Lucky. You're a nice pony, and that's a rare enough thing in the big city. She'll like you just fine."

Lucky looked himself over in the mirror and smiled. Applejack was right; he looked alright and Octavia already seemed to like him. This was just a casual, friendly dinner in a fancy restaurant in the most upscale hotel in Canterlot with one of the most beautiful mares he'd ever seen in his life.

Suddenly Lucky didn't feel as confident as he had moments before.


	2. Chapter 2

_**I would like to take a moment to protest SOPA and PIPA. These bills are trouble, no two ways about it. Want to do something? Contact your congressman! Call your senator! Do anything you can, because these bills must be stopped!**_

_So. Here's the next chapter. I promise this story is going to be finished. I know this because it already is. It was done when I submitted the first chapter. That's probably going to be how I operate from now on, because I'm sick of leaving things halfway finished! Sadly, since this story is done I can say for certain that there is no violence in it. If you're waiting for Eighth Harmonic to get kicked in the face, you're going to be disappointed. I…I'm so sorry._

_The stuff that Octavia mentions isn't far from the truth. There's a ton of awful stuff that can happen to your body just because you play an instrument. Cracked even wrote an article about it._

_Oh, and since we don't know what Octavia's full name might be officially, I just picked one. Some people would rather it be Philharmonic, but I like Amati better._

_**Edit: Looks like I went and derped on the second chapter. All fixed, sorry about that!**_

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><p>When he walked into the lobby of Octavia's hotel Lucky almost lost what little confidence he had left; the floor tiles were probably worth more than what he made in a year. The entire room was so ornate that he couldn't help but get distracted by every tiny detail his eyes happened across. He almost couldn't see the forest for the trees. That was a figurative statement, of course; there weren't actually any trees.<p>

Oh, there they were. A stunning fresco depicting Princess Luna in a moonlit forest was spread over the wall behind the receptionist's desk.

Lucky's eyes drifted from the fresco to the desk in front of it, and from there to the annoyed mare staring at him. He cleared his throat and said "Hi! I'm looking for a mare named Octavia." The receptionist raised an eyebrow. "We're having dinner," he continued.

"Then you'll want to meet her at the restaurant," the mare said.

"Yes! That's great. Where is it?"

The receptionist stared at him for a while and managed to convey her immeasurable frustration without the slightest change in expression. "Right this way sir," she said, and ushered Lucky out of the lobby before he frightened away potential guests.

"Wow," Lucky remarked as they went up an absurdly ornate staircase. "This place is really something."

"The Horn and Feather is the finest hotel in Canterlot," the receptionist said primly. "That, by extension, makes it the finest in all of Equestria. It provides the best accommodations possible."

"Yeah, I can see that." They reached a foyer that lead directly into an enormous dining hall. Lucky had never seen a room so big and polished. "Look," he said, "There she is!" He caught a glimpse of Octavia disappearing behind a small crowd of people. "Where's she going?"

The receptionist sighed. "I can't possibly know, sir. If you'll excuse me, I must get back to the desk. Good day."

"Right. Thanks for your help." Lucky glanced down at his outfit and tried to gauge how he looked. The only frame of reference that he had was what everypony else was wearing, and if he compared himself to the other patrons then he was severely underdressed. That was beyond his ability to help, so there was nothing left to do but put his best hoof forward.

The maître d' s nametag read '_Ash_' in gilded letters. "Hey!" Lucky said cheerfully. "I'm here for Miss Octavia?"

The maître d' flipped through a few pages of a thick book and looked over several of the names. "Octavia Amati?" he asked. "Very good, sir. Right this way." Lucky followed him to Octavia's table and sat down, straining to keep from gawking at his surroundings like a country bumpkin. Octavia returned soon after he'd sat down. Lucky stood up a little too quickly when he saw her and had to catch his chair before it fell over.

Octavia had put on a little more makeup than he'd seen her with onstage, and her black dress complimented her coat perfectly. It wasn't nearly as elaborate as her surroundings; instead of being overly flamboyant it was elegant in its simplicity. Lucky wished he could think of something charming to say, but the only words he could come up with were "You are so incredibly out of my league."

Obviously that wouldn't be a good thing to say, so he just smiled. It would have to do.

Octavia was happy to see him. She smiled pleasantly when he held her chair for her, but didn't sit down. "I know I suggested this place," she said, "but would you be terribly annoyed if we ate somewhere else?"

Lucky pushed her chair back in and tried to look disappointed. He didn't want her to think that he was _too_ happy to be leaving, even though the crushingly sophisticated atmosphere was making him uncomfortable. "Not at all! Where are we going?"

"Somewhere a little less stuffy," Octavia answered. She took his hoof with her own. "As much as I like dining here, it isn't the most relaxed atmosphere."

"I'd have to agree with you there," Lucky admitted. "It's nice and all, but I feel a bit out of place here. Let's get going."

* * *

><p>The restaurant that Octavia picked was a complete surprise. The Gilded Trumpet, hidden so far out of the way that nopony could ever stumble across it by accident, was a jazz club that relied exclusively on word of mouth for publicity. It was a well-kept secret that was only shared from one friend to another. Lucky felt strangely honored that Octavia trusted him enough to let him in on the secret.<p>

The bartender waved as they found a table. The lights were low and covered with red film to keep the atmosphere soothing and, in Lucky's opinion, more than a little drowsy. The soothing music coming from the stage was very good, but not as good as Octavia's.

"What do you think?" Octavia asked. "I've been coming here for years; there's something about this place that agrees with me." The lighting was playing over her, highlighting her smile and the deep lavender of her eyes.

"You got that right," Lucky said before he could stop himself. Fortunately she didn't notice. "I-I mean, uh, it's great. I wasn't expecting you to like jazz music, bein' a classical musician and all."

Octavia waved to a waitress that was passing by. "Classical music is my favorite," she said, "but it's nice to take a break from it for a while. I'd recommend the hayseed soup here if you like that sort of thing."

They ordered and the waitress nodded politely before scurrying off. "So tell me, Lucky, what does a farmer do with his free time?"

Lucky had been worried about discussing his job, thinking that she might look down on a simple farmhand. Now that he was sitting next to her he knew that had been silly; Octavia already liked him and wouldn't take issue with his job if she was half as classy as she pretended to be. It was easy to talk about what he did, and even easier to keep the conversation going.

Before long Lucky revealed that he'd been in a jazz band for a while. The band had only lasted for a week and had preformed a single time, but he insisted that at least one of the members had some measure of talent. "Blues was pretty good," he said. "The rest of us sort of weighed him down. Beltalong couldn't play the drums to save his wings and I didn't play an instrument _at all_. That meant I was the singer by default, even if I sounded like a hurt moose."

"I'm sure you weren't that bad," Octavia laughed. She was nursing her second drink, trying to avoid getting tipsy in front of him. "Beltalong was the weather pony, wasn't he?"

Lucky wasn't nearly as cautious when it came to drinking, but made up for it by being extremely resilient. He'd once been able to drink Big Macintosh under the table and had walked home afterwards. "Yeah, Belt was the pegasus. He was the one with the short attention span."

"I have a friend with a similar problem," Octavia said. "She tried to play the trumpet, but got bored with it. From what she tells me being a DJ is far more entertaining."

The conversation began to shift from music to friends and back to music again. Octavia had an extensive knowledge of classical artists and compositions, but she knew nothing about the more modern genres. Lucky decided to avoid discussing House of Grain or any of the other rap bands that he liked. It was an acquired taste anyway.

Octavia slowly became less reserved as the night wore on. While they ate she talked about her days in the Canterlot School of Music, one of the most prestigious organizations of its kind. Lucky knew nothing about music from an artistic standpoint, but his ignorance didn't stop him from being impressed.

Eventually the meal was finished and they were left to their talking as one band packed up and another took the stage. Octavia was laughing while Lucky talked more about the band he and a few friends had formed. He'd already mentioned Flash Bulb, a photographer pony with a terrible stutter, and how the rest of the group frequently gave him a hard time.

"S-So," Lucky was saying as the last band member left the stage, "There's this local newspaper that wants to print a story on our band, and guess who has to take the picture?"

Octavia had giggled for so long that she could hardly speak. "I just know this will end badly," she said breathlessly.

"You bet. Anyway, there's all of us standing there in our best outfits, and poor Flash is setting up his camera. He looks at us, all business, and says 'Say ch-ch-ch-cheese!'"

Octavia broke into another fit of giggles and waved a hoof helplessly. "You didn't!"

"We did!" Lucky clopped his hooves gently against the table. "All six or seven of us are standing there, and we give the biggest smiles we can-"

"S-Stop it!" Octavia begged. "Oh, stop! I can't-"

"And we all go 'Ch-ch-ch-cheese!"

A fit of laughter left both of them winded and each had to pause for a drink. "You're horrible," Octavia insisted. "Poor Flash Bulb."

"He gave back as good as he got," Lucky assured her. "That was life for us; if you didn't get teased, you didn't belong. We loved messing with each other. There was one time when Caramel's sister came to visit, and she looked so much like him that... well, never mind. That ain't appropriate dinner conversation."

"Oh dear." Octavia finished her drink, a cocktail the bartender called a 'Bourgeoisie', and set the empty glass aside. "You're quite easy to get along with; I haven't laughed like that in ages."

Lucky put on the most charming look he could muster. "Well," he said, "No offense intended, but you looked like you could use a good laugh. All this high society nonsense sounds like it weighs kinda heavy on some ponies."

"I suppose it must seem that way. To an extent you may be right."

As the next band got started on another song Lucky swirled his own drink thoughtfully. It was a thick, dark beer that most ponies wouldn't have enjoyed. "Can I ask you something?" he ventured after a moment. "What's that conductor pony got against you?"

Octavia glanced at her drink as though wishing she had more. "You don't know much about playing professionally, do you?"

"No," Lucky admitted, "You already know that my musical career ended a week or two after it started."

With a small sigh Octavia braced herself and looked at him with sad, tired eyes. "I'm an earth pony, and earth ponies don't play music."

Lucky chuckled dryly. "We obviously attended two very different auditions."

"It is quite possible that we did," Octavia sighed. "Traditionally unicorns are the only ponies that play music, and The Alicorn Sisters Orchestra is nothing if not traditional."

"So you're snubbed for being an earth pony," Lucky finished. "That ain't right. Heck, it doesn't even make sense! You're the best musician I've ever seen, and you played twice as well as anypony else tryin' for the job."

"You are very kind." It may have been the lighting, but Lucky was almost certain that she was blushing. "I'm very glad to have met you, Lucky. I've been so anxious about these auditions that I feel as though I haven't smiled in months."

Lucky drained his drink as well. "Well you should do it more often," he said. "Everypony looks better when they smile. Well, except for my uncle Saltlick; he's got no teeth." He stared at Octavia with a straight face for as long as he could manage, then broke into the giggles when he couldn't stand it any longer.

"We should go," Octavia ventured when they had finished. "I have to be at my best tomorrow."

"You'll do fine," Lucky assured her. "Trust me."

Octavia took his hoof as they left. "If I manage to pass the next round of eliminations, would you like to celebrate?" She looked fondly around at the Gilded Trumpet. "Canterlot is a big city, but the one thing that cannot be found easily is friendly company."

"Sounds great!" Lucky exclaimed. "I can't wait." When they got outside he hailed a cab and helped her inside. When he shut the door Lucky noticed a spot of red on his hoof. "What's this?" he asked. He looked down at Octavia's hooves and stifled a gasp.

"It isn't as bad as it looks," Octavia assured him. Her forelegs were weeping blood where they met her hooves. "Goodness, you look as though you've seen a ghost!"

"But doesn't that hurt?" Lucky asked. "That isn't from your cello, is it?"

Octavia shrugged, hoping to brush the issue aside. "I am far from the only pony that has bled for her music. It happens often whenever somepony plays for long periods of time. I once knew a trumpet player that bled from the lips."

Lucky wanted to get a closer look, but he knew it would make Octavia uncomfortable. "That sounds pretty unpleasant. I bet unicorns don't have to worry about stuff like that."

"Actually they do. Manipulating an instrument takes fine, delicate movements. A unicorn using magic has to contain the raw power of his or her spell to maintain perfect control, which can do terrible things to horns. Lyra's horn once fractured right in front of me. It took weeks for her to recover and it looked…exceedingly painful."

Lucky tried to imagine what it would feel like to have part of his head break open, then wished he hadn't. "I had no idea."

Octavia examined her hooves, then let them fall as though dismissing them from her awareness. "This is nothing to complain about. Surely you've seen worse on the farm."

"Sure have," Lucky said. "Big Macintosh got caught in a stampede a few years ago. He ain't as fast as Applejack, so he couldn't get out of the way in time. Luckily he was at the edge of the group."

"Was he hurt?"

Lucky chuckled. "Who, Macintosh? He was fine, but poor Bessie knocked herself cold runnin' into him like that. Must've been like hitting a brick wall."

The ride to Octavia's hotel was over too quickly for Lucky's liking. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he said. "I'm glad you decided to spend the evening with me."

"As am I," Octavia said. "It was a pleasure, Mr. Clover." She gave him a kiss on the cheek before getting out of the taxi. "Until tomorrow, then."

Lucky stared dumbly as she walked away, then yanked his mind out of the haze it had fallen into. He shut the door, thankful that Octavia hadn't seen his goofy smile, and told the pony pulling the taxi to take him back to his hotel.

"Well?" Applejack asked as Lucky walked into his hotel room. "How'd it go?"

Lucky stared first at her, then at Caramel. Big Macintosh was not present, probably because he knew Lucky wouldn't like being questioned. "How did you get into my room?"

"C'mon Luck," Caramel urged, "Spill it! We've been waitin' all night!"

"There shouldn't be any keys to my room other than the one I have with me. That's the point of a lock; it keeps ponies out if they don't have the key."

"Where'd you go?" Applejack asked. "What was she like? Come _on_, Lucky, out with it!"

Lucky fought the urge to sigh contentedly. "It went great," he said. "We went to a jazz club and talked for a while. She's classy, but not snooty like a lot of high-society types." He looked over at Caramel, who was stifling a grin. "What?"

"Nothin'," Caramel said innocently

"Anyways, I'm watching her play again tomorrow. She's an amazing musician and she's tryin' out for Celestia's private orchestra. I mean, can you imagine the pressure?"

"That's m-mighty impressive," Applejack giggled. "Come on Caramel, let's go. Romeo here had quite a night and he needs his rest."

Lucky shut the door behind them and pulled off his tie. Applejack had been right; he hadn't realized until now how tired he was. He wanted nothing more than to fall into bed, but he decided to take a shower first.

As he was walking into the bathroom Lucky caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Octavia's lipstick had left an outline of her lips on his cheek. "Guess that explains what they were laughin' about," he mused. He didn't wipe it off just yet.

After the shower, while he was lying in bed and waiting for sleep to claim him, Lucky thought about Octavia's music. She was gifted to the point of near genius, as anypony in the audience today had seen. There was no reason she couldn't do anything she set her mind to.

_And_, a quiet but insistent little voice in the back of his mind whispered, _She wants to see me again. Let's not forget the best part. Octavia Amati wants to spend time with Lucky Clover. Dear sweet Celestia, if this is a dream then don't let me wake up._

* * *

><p>Lucky woke up the next day and immediately wished he'd slept in later. Octavia's audition wasn't until late in the afternoon and he had nothing to do until then but look forward to it. He ate breakfast with the family and suffered through the endless barrage of questions, pretending that he wasn't embarrassed.<p>

After breakfast Lucky went back to what he'd been doing for most of his time in the city: wandering around with no clear destination in mind. He eventually found his way to the museum connected to the concert hall. There were plenty of paintings and statues to look at, but nothing really caught his interest.

Finally it was time. Lucky took his seat excitedly and waited for Eighth Harmonic to start the show. The auditions today were especially short, with only two ponies and a griffon taking the stage.

Octavia's audition was as powerful and moving as before. Once again she grabbed the audience with the force of her music and refused to let go until the song was finished. Lucky was sure that she'd be accepted into the orchestra; nopony, no matter how snobbish they might be, could deny how talented she was.

When the show was finished Lucky waited outside for Octavia. She didn't leave right away, but appeared only after everypony else was gone. She followed Eighth Harmonic down the steps, cello balanced on her back. Lucky wasn't close enough to hear what they were saying, but Octavia looked desperate.

A private carriage was waiting for Eighth Harmonic at the curb. When he reached it he turned and said something angrily to Octavia that made her flinch and back away. Lucky thought he could pick out the words "go home".

"B-But wait!" Octavia argued, "This ain't fair!" Octavia choked on her next words and backed away, covering her mouth with a hoof.

Eighth Harmonic looked over at Lucky, who was sitting on the same bench he'd been using for the last several days. "I'd advise you to get rid of the bumpkin," the unicorn sniffed. "He is clearly starting to rub off on Day, Miss Amati." He then climbed into the carriage and rode off as though he hadn't just torn somepony's dream apart.

"You alright?" Lucky called. Octavia spun around, obviously surprised to see him. "What's the matter?"

"It's nothing," Octavia assured him. "I'm sorry it took so long, I forgot that you'd be waiting out here."

"Doesn't look like nothin' to me," Lucky insisted. Octavia refused to look at him. "If you want to talk, I'd be happy to listen."

"The part was given to Plucky Strings," Octavia explained. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. I have to go now, so….it was nice seeing you."

Lucky watched numbly as she climbed into a taxi. "That ain't fair," he said quietly. "No sir." He looked back at the concert hall, then at the rapidly dwindling carriage Harmonic had rode off in. "What a jerk."


	3. Chapter 3

"_Farmhoof" is an awful word and typing it made me want to throw up. Just so you know. Also, if you're like me, you keep reading "the Gilded Trumpet" as "Gilda's Trumpet." And if you didn't before, you probably will now._

_SO! Here's the last chapter. __**Chapter 2 has been fixed and is no longer identical to chapter **__1. I've got a few other things that I'm working on, but nothing…in depth. No clue what my next submission will be or when it will happen. I'm busy these days, but I still write. So don't hold your breath, but EVENTUALLY there will be something new going up._

_I'm…unimpressed by the ending here. I don't know if I like it or not, but I don't think I have the motivation to come back and fiddle with it some more. It's also late, and I'm tired and on some medication for a cold so I'm feeling uninspired. Bleh._

* * *

><p>As the afternoon wore on Lucky couldn't help but sulk over what had happened to Octavia. When he finally couldn't stand it he bought some flowers (at what he suspected was a ridiculously high price) and tried to pay her a visit.<p>

The hotel receptionist remembered him, which was not a good sign. Lucky had gone through all the trouble of getting dressed up again –just in case the situation warranted- and he didn't appreciate the snobbish mare looking down her snout at him. "I'm quite certain that Miss Amati would have told me if she were expecting a visitor," she told him.

"Just send up the flowers," Lucky insisted. "Tell her that I'd really like to talk to her."

For a moment he thought that nopony in the entire building was going to lift a hoof to help him, but a shockingly burly stallion in a nice suit appeared out of nowhere to take the flowers away. _That's one big pony_, Lucky thought. _I didn't realize that a place like this would need a bouncer. Maybe rich ponies are all angry drunks._ The thought cheered him for some reason.

After an uncomfortable wait in the lobby Lucky was grateful when the burly pony returned and whispered something to the receptionist. "Very well," she sighed, and turned to look at Lucky. "She will see you."

"Which is what I said when I first walked in," Lucky muttered, but not so loudly that she would hear him. "What's her room number?"

"Mr. Hoofington will show you," the receptionist said, and then busily set about pretending that he had never intruded upon her day. Lucky rolled his eyes and followed the stallion up several floors of stairs. The crazily glamorous setting that had been intriguing before was starting to get on his nerves. It was all well and good when something shined, but _everything_ gleamed in this place. It was hard on his eyes and very distracting.

"Here," Mr. Hoofington rumbled in a voice that sounded like a boulder rolling down a mountainside. He turned away and left without another word. Lucky knocked on the door and waited while somepony shuffled about inside.

After a moment the door creaked open and Octavia looked out at him. She'd removed her makeup, which made the red around her eyes more obvious. "Hey," he said, for lack of any other ideas.

"I'm sorry, Lucky. I know we planned to do something tonight but I don't think it would be a good idea."

"I understand. You alright?"

Octavia smiled and tried in vain to rub some of the wetness from her eyes. "Fine," she insisted. When Lucky didn't look impressed she sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "Please, don't worry about me. I know I look like a mess, but I'm really quite alright."

Lucky cleared his throat and shuffled his hooves, worried that he was about to say something foalish. "You're a mighty smart mare, Octavia. You don't need me to tell you how hard that is to believe."

Octavia sighed heavily. "Well fine, but I still want to be alone."

"I insist exactly the opposite," Lucky argued. "That means you'd just stay here and wallow in misery, which is a downright awful idea."

Octavia stared listlessly at the floor. "I don't feel like jazz," she mumbled. "I don't know what I feel like."

"We don't have to go anywhere like that," Lucky assured her. "We could just go for a walk if you like."

Lucky snuck a quick look into her room and saw an overturned music stand. It had been thrown against the wall with quite a bit of force judging from the scratched wallpaper. "Why don't we get out of here?" he asked. "Some fresh air might do you good."

Octavia smiled tiredly. "I think I'd like that."

* * *

><p>For such a large city Canterlot had a definite lack of any consistent lighting. Streetlamps gave way to moonlit streets, which then led to more streetlamps and brightly lit storefront windows. The atmosphere seemed to change with each new light source, going from warm and cozy to cool and tranquil, then switching back again as though unable to make up its mind.<p>

Octavia was in better spirits, but Lucky decided that almost anything would have been an improvement over her feelings in the hotel. He hadn't wanted to jump right into a conversation about her failed audition, so he asked about her subsequent outburst instead. She seemed a bit frustrated that he hadn't forgotten about it.

"I was not born into wealth like most Canterlot musicians. I come from a long line of farmers. Most ponies wouldn't consider that a noble upbringing, so I decided to give them what they expected rather than the truth. I became so sophisticated that I could hardly recognize myself afterward. I even started using a different name."

Lucky rolled his eyes. "Sure, because folks like Eighth Harmonic are worth all that. Can I ask you somethin'?"

"I suppose."

"What's so important about this gig? You must have another, what with the fancy hotel you're staying at. Who cares if a stuffy old unicorn doesn't think you're good enough?" He took a calming breath and tried to reorder his thoughts. "I don't mean to tread on your dream, but you're a great musician and you know it. Why bother with somepony that's never going to give you a fair shot?"

Octavia walked in silence, her eyes never leaving the ground. Lucky wasn't sure if she was sad or just lost in thought. "I don't need the money," she admitted. "I want to play for Celestia. I want a goddess to admire my music. Maybe then I wouldn't have the nagging feeling that I've been wasting my time."

"You got no reason to feel that way," Lucky assured her. "Ain't nopony's business, questioning your dreams." He stopped walking abruptly as an idea forcefully invaded his head.

"What is it?" Octavia asked. "What's the matter?"

Lucky grinned. "I've got an idea. Would you mind going back for your cello?"

Octavia eyed him doubtfully. "I…suppose not. What kind of idea is this exactly?"

"Well, you know how sometimes an idea is so great that there's no way it could fail?"

"Yes."

"This ain't one of those ideas, but it might make you feel better. Let's get goin' and I'll explain on the way."

* * *

><p>Two hours later Octavia was contemplating the stone wall in front of her. "You were right about this idea," she said. "It is far from perfect. How is this supposed to make me feel better, exactly?"<p>

"You get to play for Celestia," Lucky reminded her. "That has to mean something." He shimmied up a tree that stood close to the wall and stepped onto the walkway above. "Come on; let's get goin' before one of the guards sees us!"

"Wait!" Octavia hissed. "Why are you doing this?"

"I don't see any other way over the castle walls."

Octavia rolled her eyes. "Not that," she whispered. "I meant, why are you doing this for me? You hardly know me. We only met two days ago."

Lucky was struggling to keep his balance as he climbed, but he spared a moment to answer her. "That ain't true. I know you well enough to see that you're a good pony. You're one of the nicest mares I ever had the chance to meet. Why _wouldn't_ I help?"

Octavia found herself at a loss for words. Instead she just passed him her cello case and climbed up the tree as well as she was able. "'Atta girl," Lucky chuckled. "Don't worry; the gardens are open to the public during the day. We can just say we lost track of time and got locked in."

They descended the wall's opposite face, passing the cello down carefully before moving into the gardens. The closest they came to discovery was when an elderly gardener strolled by, whistling tunelessly and oblivious to their presence. "Security seems a bit lax," Octavia remarked. "I haven't seen a single guard."

"Course it is. If Celestia can drag the sun across the sky then she can take care of herself. Anything bad enough to threaten her wouldn't be worried about her guards, right? Then there's Luna to think about. Between the two of them I bet the castle is plenty safe with a few token guards."

Lucky stopped her beneath a balcony. "Listen!" he whispered. Octavia cocked an ear and heard a musical cooing noise. "What is it Philomeena?" a gentle voice asked. Celestia peeked outside and looked down at them. "Oh my. What are you two doing in the gardens this late at night?"

Octavia tried to answer, but her throat tightened up and choked her. Her knees started to shake and she knew that before long she would break into a sweat. Stage fright, worse than any she had ever felt before, rooted her to the spot and rendered her helpless. "Is something wrong?" Celestia asked. "You look ill."

"Just a moment, your highness!" Lucky called. He tapped Octavia on the shoulder and got no response. "Hey, focus!" he urged. What's the matter?

Octavia looked at him with wide, anxious eyes. "I don't know if I can do this. She's probably thousands of years old. She's heard the greatest musicians in history playing _in person_! Nothing that I play could hold a candle to that!"

A gentle hoof on her shoulder helped calm her down, but not by much. "You've got nothin' to worry about," Lucky assured her. "You just play like you've been playing. Do what comes natural to you. Trust me, you're good enough for this. Celestia ain't no different from any other audience."

"I firmly disagree."

"Fine," Lucky sighed. "Grab your cello and let's head home. I guess Eighth Harmonic gets the last laugh."

Octavia was silent for a long time. Finally she grabbed her cello case and opened it. "You did that on purpose," she accused.

"No idea what you're talking about."

After warming up with a few quick melodies Octavia looked up and smiled nervously. "My name is Octavia Amati, your majesty. I've always wanted to play for you, but I failed my audition for the Alicorn Sisters Orchestra. Please, can I play for you now?"

Celestia leaned on the balcony's railing and smiled. "It has been a rather long day. Some music sounds wonderful." Octavia spared Lucky an elated look, then immediately threw herself into the music and never looked back.

While the bow was dancing across the strings Octavia looked completely unaware of her surroundings. She no longer worried about who was watching or wondered if she was good enough; she played, and the rest of the world stopped to listen.

The song ended and Lucky realized he had been holding his breath. Octavia looked up at Celestia and waited on her verdict. "Wait here," the princess said, and trotted back into her room.

"Maybe we should go," Octavia ventured. "What if she's calling the guards?"

"She wouldn't," Lucky assured her. "This is really important to you. She has to understand that, right?"

Moments later Celestia returned. Walking with her was the smaller, darker shape of Princess Luna. "Miss Amati?" she called. "If it isn't too much to ask, would you please play again?"

Octavia did as she was asked. Two goddesses and one extremely impressed farmhoof listened. The song ended and another began, followed by yet another. Octavia once again degenerated into the same beautiful mess that Lucky had seen that first day in the concert hall. He sat back and watched, happy that she had escaped into her element and forgotten all about how nervous she'd been.

* * *

><p>Eventually the music had to stop. Celestia and Luna talked quietly as Otavia packed up her cello. "You were right," Luna whispered. "She is quite skilled. It is a shame that she couldn't get into our orchestra."<p>

"I wish that I could say I have no idea how she failed her audition," Celestia said dryly. "Tomorrow I think I'll have a very unpleasant talk with a similarly unpleasant unicorn. Eighth Harmonic is a great conductor and has been very helpful over the years, but his bias is inexcusable."

"I agree," Luna sighed. "I have met him only twice and I already dislike him."

"Perhaps I can make him see thinks my way. I can be very persuasive." She noticed Luna staring at her and asked "What?"

"Ask him if he can breathe on the moon."

"I don't think that would be appropriate." Celestia tapped a hoof on her chin in consideration. "But it might be fun to play a joke on him." Luna pranced eagerly as Celestia rolled her eyes. "We'll talk about it later."

In the garden below Octavia was waiting anxiously for a review of her performance. "Your music is wonderful!" Celestia said. "If I may be so bold, would you tell me where I can contact you later?"

Octavia squealed and hugged the stallion that had accompanied her. "How sweet," Luna giggled. "She brought her coltfriend along. They make a nice couple."

"Indeed they do." Celestia almost called down to them again, but thought better of it. "Perhaps we should give them some privacy. I'm sure they have a lot to talk about."

"Agreed!" Luna said a little too loudly. She was still trying to break the habit of using the royal Canterlot voice when talking to her subjects. "I have duties to attend to." She rose up and waved to the two ponies below. "Farewell, musician! We wish you a pleasant evening with your suitor!"

Celestia frowned and thought about pushing her sister from the balcony. Instead she dragged Luna inside and shut the doors, leaving Octavia and Lucky alone in the garden. Both of them were looking absolutely everywhere except at each other.

* * *

><p>Later, as the smooth jazz music flowed over them and the dim lighting threatened to put them to sleep, Lucky and Octavia enjoyed one final drink at the Gilded Trumpet. "We'll be going home soon," Lucky ventured. "I don't know when I'll be in Canterlot again."<p>

Octavia was already half asleep and a little tipsy. "I understand. I assume that you'll be going back to your farm."

"Eeyup. Buckin' season is still a ways off, but there's always work to be done." Lucky sipped his drink to stall for time while he tried to work up a little courage. He didn't quite have enough yet, so he had to ask something else. "Didn't you say you started using a different name when you became a musician?"

Octavia giggled and waived to the band's trumpet player, who Lucky recognized with a start was another pony that had auditioned for the Alicorn Sisters Orchestra. "My real name is Inkarella Elizabeth Pie. Just…don't tell anypony."

"Inkarella?" Lucky asked, doing his best to keep a straight face. "That's, uh, a real nice name."

"Just call me Inky. I love my parents, but I question their naming conventions."

"Well I can't say that I blame you. Whoever you are, I'm glad we ran into each other."

"As am I, Lucky. Thank you for believing in me."

Music continued to play, but Lucky was still having trouble relaxing. "Hey, Octavia?" he asked. "I guess you'll be playin' in that orchestra now, right?"

"I would assume so," Octavia said. "Why?"

Lucky shifted uncomfortable in his seat. "No reason." He tried his best to ignore the look she was giving him. "Oh _fine_, if you insist. I'll be going home tomorrow or the next day. I'm worried we won't see each other again."

Octavia ("_Inky_", Lucky corrected himself) raised an eyebrow in mild disbelief. "That might be sweet, but it's hardly rational. I want to see you again just as much as you want to see me, and there's no reason that I can't visit."

"Really?"

The dim lighting made it hard to see that "Inky" ("_This is going to get annoying,"_ Lucky thought) was moving. By the time Lucky noticed she had already slid across the booth and was leaning against him. "Don't be silly," she said. "Musicians need vacations just like everypony else."

"Well that's good to know," Lucky sighed happily. "We can write in the meantime, if that's alright."

Octavia kissed him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I certainly intend to. Besides, I have a sister in Ponyville that I haven't seen in ages. It might be nice to visit."

"Inky Pie," Lucky said thoughtfully. "Funny, I know a baker named _Pinkie_ Pie."

"Then you know my sister."

"She's an interesting character," Lucky said. "She actually tells everypony she grew up on a rock farm. Can you believe that?"

Inky raised an eyebrow. "Of course I can. What's not to believe?"

Lucky considered his response very carefully. "Nothing," he finally said. "Nothing at all."

"Whatever you say," Octavia said with a shrug. She went back to resting against him and after a little while he could tell that she'd fallen asleep.

Lucky almost gave up fighting to stay awake. He was comfortable here, and Octavia was a warm presence that put him further at ease. In the end he knew he couldn't go to sleep because his family would be waiting to talk to him. He didn't want them to think that anything inappropriate had happened. _Especially since Princess Luna yelled loud enough that the whole city could hear_, he thought with a grin.

Actually, staying awake wasn't all that bad. He felt Octavia shift a little as she mumbled something in her sleep. If he paid close attention he could feel her pulse, beating slowly alongside the calming music. No, he decided, staying awake wasn't bad at all; right now it felt like the waking world had a lot more to offer than what his dreams could provide.


End file.
